I made myself a sandwich today. Roast beef, provolone, lettuce, tomato, and some mayonnaise. What can be better? Nothing. That’s what. I made that sandwich and in turn, that sandwich made my day.
He made the long journey on foot, even though other means of transport were available. Jimmy, the neighbor body whose baseballs were always going over the fence.
“This is not something I can do alone,” he said softly, scarcely daring to look at her.
“I know,” she said, slipping her hand into his. He jumped, but did not remove it.
“You’ve made me something else, after all.”
made. what have i made. i cant remember the last thing i have made, either with my mind, my hands, or anything for that matter. I want to make things, i want them to have value. I need to figure out how.
This morning I wanted to make a sandwich but I was too lazy to make a sandwich so instead I decided simply to make myself some cereal. It’s kind of a boring meal, and not really something that needs to be “made” but so be it. Anyway, that’s what I did this morning and now I’m on the computer.
I was made to love. In my heart I hold a love of the world. The trees, the birds. I was made to live. I was made to care. To care for the world and the people I love.
It made my day when I heard about the grin when he found out I was his date. It made my heart break when he told me that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship right now.
She was no biological accident. She was no random accumulation of atoms and molecules. She was no chance occurrence. She had been created; she had been made to be just so.
Making something is like putting all the opposite pieces together perfectly. If things aren’t opposites, they don’t always necessarily fit perfectly. Just like pieces of a puzzle. To make is really only to complete.
I just made a cake! It looks absolutely wonderful and smells heavenly. I am still nervous to eat it though, my baking skills are not that great due to my short attention span.
We made two babies. Two. I could possibly go insane with two crying babies all day, all night. Everyone says it gets better. I can’t wait. When does it get better? When will everything work out and be okay.
i made my best effort. the best effort i ever had. i wrapped it in a box. i made it look pretty. i gave it to a girl, but it didn’t make her happy. so then i made myself happy by making the box get crushed. the end. ????
once upon a time, I made a creation. a story if you will. I couldn’t come up with the words, nor could i think of what the story would be about, how the storyline would flow. but hopefully someone would read what i had to say anyway. even if what I had to say, was nothing.
Made…The mafia to has “made men”. These are killers who “made their bones” (killed someone) to become full fledged mafia hods. Made… maybe, but not the kind of life I would want to make.
I thought I’d made it. I thought I’d made it to the end. How wrong I was. I’ll never be able to do it, never get that far. I’ve tried everything, been anyone, done anything, but still no success. I suppose I’ll have to give up and accept the truth. Accept my fate.
Made me angry. Made me sad. I’ve never made a single thing in my life. I feel so desponded. Now look what you’ve made me do? I never meant to say that. Minutemaid.
The past tense is a funny thing. It’s all about history, which I hate, but at the same time…it’s fascinating. It’s a whole other story. Someone ‘made’ that.
Most people everywhere enjoying making things. Whether they be houses, crafts or simply fixing their families a nice meal it involves challenging yourself and doing something with your own two hands. I can’t imagine a word where people no longer make things themselves and instead rely on machinery to create things.
One time I made out with a guy and he was a really bad kisser. It was all slobbery, and his breath was really nasty. But oh well, that was a long time ago. I don’t like thinking about it. I don’t know why that came into my head.
you made me do this. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, but you said I had to write about the word made. If I made you do this what would you be doing? I’m only writing because you made me. Hmmmm…. what is this supposed to mean? The word has too many ideas to write about, yet I have no idea what to write about.
it happen. with care and love it was created. made. work, time, patience. creation. I’d like to make sometihng beautiful, to last the ages and be remembered as something great.
Hmmm. I feel made tonight. What should we use as the meaning for the word made? As in, tired? Sexy? Fucked up? Well, more like, drunk? Nah, that wouldn’t be a good one. How about, “Dude, I totally made tonight.” That would mean getting some booty.
When you think about it, in the grand scheme of things, all these things I’ve made, what are they worth? Anything at all? Honestly, it was all just a waste of time although it seemed so important then.
i’ve made myself the person i want to be. i though i would never make something of myself. this makes me happy. i’ve finally made progress with my life. i don’t think i could have made anything any better.
What have I made of myself with all these empty words? Have they run dry? Am I ready to tell the truth now? Or will it come out too harsh; is it still too soon?
The things I have made in my life are completely astounding. from chairs, to tv’s, to children, you never know what I might make next. The things I have made range in shape and size.
I made it. I made it up. I made it work, I made him cry, I made her fall. I made a child money, I made myself wonder. I made art, I made crap. I made words. I made life.
I made myself a sandwich today. Roast beef, provolone, lettuce, tomato, and some mayonnaise. What can be better? Nothing. That’s what. I made that sandwich and in turn, that sandwich made my day.
Made. Either you did or you dident. you will or you wont. Most peopkle wont. You have taken action , you have created difference.
He made the long journey on foot, even though other means of transport were available. Jimmy, the neighbor body whose baseballs were always going over the fence.
“This is not something I can do alone,” he said softly, scarcely daring to look at her.
“I know,” she said, slipping her hand into his. He jumped, but did not remove it.
“You’ve made me something else, after all.”
made. what have i made. i cant remember the last thing i have made, either with my mind, my hands, or anything for that matter. I want to make things, i want them to have value. I need to figure out how.
This morning I wanted to make a sandwich but I was too lazy to make a sandwich so instead I decided simply to make myself some cereal. It’s kind of a boring meal, and not really something that needs to be “made” but so be it. Anyway, that’s what I did this morning and now I’m on the computer.
if u can made then u r still alive
I was made to love. In my heart I hold a love of the world. The trees, the birds. I was made to live. I was made to care. To care for the world and the people I love.
we were
created to create
that is impressive
that is original
that is awfully thoughtful
to let us
It made my day when I heard about the grin when he found out I was his date. It made my heart break when he told me that he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship right now.
i was shaped by your silver hands and colored by your wordless songs
white clay in black paint and it seems there is no going back now.
iron cages won’t wait for me anymore.
i was made not born. i was manufactured by the environment that i was raised in as well who raised me. but in the end i will manufacture myself.
She was no biological accident. She was no random accumulation of atoms and molecules. She was no chance occurrence. She had been created; she had been made to be just so.
Making something is like putting all the opposite pieces together perfectly. If things aren’t opposites, they don’t always necessarily fit perfectly. Just like pieces of a puzzle. To make is really only to complete.
I would do anything for her, if she asked, if she smiled, if she batted an eye I would be on bended knee begging to assist. Oh, what fools we are.
I just made a cake! It looks absolutely wonderful and smells heavenly. I am still nervous to eat it though, my baking skills are not that great due to my short attention span.
We made two babies. Two. I could possibly go insane with two crying babies all day, all night. Everyone says it gets better. I can’t wait. When does it get better? When will everything work out and be okay.
you had it made with me,someone that would foever love you,and do his best to forever make you happy..but that was the catch,you didn’t love me
of all the things that can be made in this world, the one thing i treasure is making someone feel happy.
i made chocolate crispie squares the other day, they were the most chocolately and sticky.. yum!
Creation. The physical manifestation of an idea, a concept, a vision. It’s the climax of effort and work, as an end product. It’s the final result.
i made my best effort. the best effort i ever had. i wrapped it in a box. i made it look pretty. i gave it to a girl, but it didn’t make her happy. so then i made myself happy by making the box get crushed. the end. ????
My brother works for a company whose name is based on the word Made. I probably shouldn’t say who they are though. Privacy.
once upon a time, I made a creation. a story if you will. I couldn’t come up with the words, nor could i think of what the story would be about, how the storyline would flow. but hopefully someone would read what i had to say anyway. even if what I had to say, was nothing.
Made…The mafia to has “made men”. These are killers who “made their bones” (killed someone) to become full fledged mafia hods. Made… maybe, but not the kind of life I would want to make.
I thought I’d made it. I thought I’d made it to the end. How wrong I was. I’ll never be able to do it, never get that far. I’ve tried everything, been anyone, done anything, but still no success. I suppose I’ll have to give up and accept the truth. Accept my fate.
Made me angry. Made me sad. I’ve never made a single thing in my life. I feel so desponded. Now look what you’ve made me do? I never meant to say that. Minutemaid.
I made a fool of myself, and there was no chance of getting those seconds back to regain my dignity. Not that it really mattered.
The past tense is a funny thing. It’s all about history, which I hate, but at the same time…it’s fascinating. It’s a whole other story. Someone ‘made’ that.
Most people everywhere enjoying making things. Whether they be houses, crafts or simply fixing their families a nice meal it involves challenging yourself and doing something with your own two hands. I can’t imagine a word where people no longer make things themselves and instead rely on machinery to create things.
One time I made out with a guy and he was a really bad kisser. It was all slobbery, and his breath was really nasty. But oh well, that was a long time ago. I don’t like thinking about it. I don’t know why that came into my head.
you made me do this. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, but you said I had to write about the word made. If I made you do this what would you be doing? I’m only writing because you made me. Hmmmm…. what is this supposed to mean? The word has too many ideas to write about, yet I have no idea what to write about.
it happen. with care and love it was created. made. work, time, patience. creation. I’d like to make sometihng beautiful, to last the ages and be remembered as something great.
Hmmm. I feel made tonight. What should we use as the meaning for the word made? As in, tired? Sexy? Fucked up? Well, more like, drunk? Nah, that wouldn’t be a good one. How about, “Dude, I totally made tonight.” That would mean getting some booty.
When you think about it, in the grand scheme of things, all these things I’ve made, what are they worth? Anything at all? Honestly, it was all just a waste of time although it seemed so important then.
i’ve made myself the person i want to be. i though i would never make something of myself. this makes me happy. i’ve finally made progress with my life. i don’t think i could have made anything any better.
What have I made of myself with all these empty words? Have they run dry? Am I ready to tell the truth now? Or will it come out too harsh; is it still too soon?
The things I have made in my life are completely astounding. from chairs, to tv’s, to children, you never know what I might make next. The things I have made range in shape and size.
I made it. I made it up. I made it work, I made him cry, I made her fall. I made a child money, I made myself wonder. I made art, I made crap. I made words. I made life.
i made it! i created this thing, this belonging of which i have formed. to make, to be, to be made. it is as simple as that. or is it?